The Siren
by Maze-zen
Summary: When Erik hears a mermaid's song, he knows that he must have her. No matter the cost.
1. Voice

The first night he heard her, was nine days after he had just barely managed to escape the Shah and the sadistic Khanum. He was sitting on the deck in the moonlight, enjoying the fresh air and the dark sea in peace. Night time was the only time he could leave the confines of the crate he was hiding in during the day. No one came into the storage room which only held crates of spices, various nuts and gunpowder. Though the Daroga had promised that the men on the ship were reliable, Erik knew that the Shah had spies everywhere.

At first he thought that he had died and that an angel had come to claim him. He was dehydrated and hadn't eaten nor slept for days, so death wasn't unlikely. But he quickly dismissed the idea of an angel coming for him. He didn't truly believe in God, along with heaven and hell, and if he did, he knew that he would never gain entrance to heaven.

Then he realized that he must've gone mad. Somehow that calmed him. He could handle that, especially if it granted him the pleasure of hearing such a voice. He lay on the deck and listened for hours to the rise and fall of solemn melodies floating through the night air. He couldn't understand the words, though it was clear to him that it was a language, but it didn't matter. The pain and loneliness expressed in the songs mirrored his own.

After an hour or so he noticed that the voice was getting farther away. Or more precisely: The ship he was on was sailing away from the source. Despite his conviction that his mind had imagined the voice, he couldn't handle the thought of never hearing it again.

He ran to the bridge and after a brief moment of understanding the steering gear, he turned the ship around to sail back towards the voice. When he was sure that he was as close to it as before, he memorized the coordinates and turned off the engines. But it wouldn't be enough. He ventured into the steam engine room and disconnected every piston rod. It would be too easy for the sailors to reconnect them, so he hid all the screws he could find on board.

Finally he could head back to the deck. Sadly the night had grown late and he saw the first signs of sunlight in the East. The voice silenced without finishing the song. It frustrated Erik to no end when something was left incomplete and his voice filled the vast ocean around him to end the song as it felt right.

Suddenly he heard a loud splash to starboard. He ran over and looked over the railing for a sign of what made the noise. It was dark, but his eyes were used to it and he saw everything almost as clearly as in sunlight. It was there he saw her: A young woman in the large waves, staring up at him. Her naked upper body were covered by wet golden, curly locks. Her face was round, her nose like a button and her eyes the clearest blue he had ever seen.

She gasped as their eyes locked for a moment. Then she dived head first into the ocean and he caught a hint of her green-blueish scaly tail as she swam away.

A mermaid! A real mermaid with the most beautiful voice he'd ever heard. He knew that he had to see her again.

Despite his incredible discovery, he actually slept that day in his crate; filled with peaceful dreams for the first time in his life. He dreamed of swimming in an ocean of blonde curls and hearing nothing but beauty around him. But even his dreams couldn't imitate her voice to perfection.

As expected the ship hadn't moved, though notes, he found on the bridge the next night informed him that help was coming. They had sent an SOS to ships nearby, claiming that their engines had broken. It was probably better than telling the truth: That there was a saboteur on board.

He knew that he had to find a more permanent way of staying near the mermaid, but his thoughts halted when he heard her again.

Her song sounded different this evening; it was like a calling. She would sing a verse, then pause before starting over. He realized that she must be calling him. The fourth time she called him, it was with desperation in her voice. This time he didn't hesitate; he answered her calling with his own, creating his own song from her melody.

Elated, her voice came closer then and soon he saw her in the surface of the dark water by the bow. Without giving the repercussions a thought, he tied a rope around the railing, with the other end around his waist and under his buttocks, and jumped overboard. He rapelled down the side of the ship until he reached the water surface where he had seen her. But she was gone now. Had she left?

Once again he sang to her, despite the difficulty he had when he was hanging by a rope. But his efforts paid off when she resurfaced right in front of him, taking his breath away so literally that he ceased singing.

She looked at him curiously with huge blue orbs that seemed to burn into his soul and he wondered briefly if she could see how many deaths he had caused. But she smiled at him; a smile brighter than the sun. His chest swelled at the sight and he had to let go from the rope with one hand to ensure that his heart wasn't actually jumping from his body.

She reached for his free hand and with wide eyes he let her take it. She lifted it to her cheek and leaned into his palm, humming as his cold touch met her warm cheek. How could she be so warm in the icy water? When her hand left his, he continued to cradle her face, then moved carefully to reach for her blonde coils. Her hair was wet, yet it felt as soft as dry hair. He marbled at the impossibility of her existence.

Her own hand lifted to his face and though his first instinct to stop her, he knew that she wanted to feel him as well. He closed his eyes as she touched his mask cautiously. He hoped that she would believe that it was a real part of him and as her hand cradled the leather cheek, he exhaled in relief. For once his face wouldn't be in the way.

He was so relieved, in fact, that he didn't notice the way her fingers quickly found the edge of the mask and when he grasped her wrist, it was too late.

Her breath (because she did breath, like him) hitched and whatever anger, that had flared to life, died out immediately. He opened his eyes in resignation, expecting to see her eyes filled with fear, but instead he saw her smile.

She put the mask on for a moment and a heavenly laugh left her mouth. Then she threw it into the sea and took his face between her hands. Staring into his eyes, he saw something in her that he had never hoped to see: Acceptance.

How ironic that the first person to accept him couldn't even live on land.

But her laugh was infectious and soon he was laughing with her, hearing an unknown sound of happiness leave his mouth. Their voices rose in song; in perfect tune, despite not knowing what the other would sing, and it was glorious. He saw the same elation, he felt, in her eyes.

The rope burned into his thin pants under his bottom, the cold ocean water splashed against him and his mask was floating away, but none of it mattered, expect for her.

All too soon the first rays of the dun painted the East red and orange. Her eyes and her song turned sorrowful; as did his own. He didn't know why, but she had to leave as well.

Was she hiding from the rest of mankind? Was she alone? Perhaps they weren't so different. If only he could follow her into the deep ocean.

They stared in silence at each other before she dived down, leaving him in his loneliness once more. He knew that he should hurry inside before the sailors woke up, especially with his mask gone. He would be recognized and thrown overboard or worse: Brought back to Persia.

Suddenly the waves before him broke and the female appeared again. She pulled him closer to her and placed her lips upon his. He gasped as warm lips willingly offered him the first kiss he had ever received. Tightly gripping her shoulders, he pulled her closer and returned the adoration and - dare he say it? - love that she gave him.

All too soon she drew away, pointed to the sun and smiled sadly before sinking into the deep again.

He sat in shock for a few moments until he heard the sounds of sailors on the deck. Begging that they wouldn't notice the rope, he crawled up the side and managed to stay out of sight until he reached the storage room once more.

That day he didn't even contemplate sleep. He paced the room, aware of the risk of being discovered when outside his crate. But he couldn't sit still. He thought about the implications of falling in love with a mermaid; someone he could never have. He still felt her touch and his body vibrated with the wonder of being accepted; of having his face accepted. Of being kissed! But how could they ever be together?

He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he hadn't noticed the sounds of another ship nearing them. It wasn't until he heard the steam engines start up again that he realized someone had managed to repair them and that soon he would be far away from his beloved.

In desperation he looked around for a mean to stop the engines. And he found it: Gunpowder. Barrels of it that they had foolishly stored under the engine room. With a single match he could stop this ship permanently.

Of course it would be stupid to blow it all up, so he swiftly rolled all but one barrel to the other side of the large room. He quickly found his box of matches among his supplies, lit it and dropped it into the remaining barrel.

In his food- and sleep-deprived state of mind he hadn't thought about the storage room's location at the bottom of the ship and when the gunpowder blew up the engine above, it also tore a hole in the ship. In his haste he had doomed everyone on board, including himself.

Water began flooding the room faster than he could exit. His only chance of surviving would be to swim out the hole, hoping that he could swim against the pressure of water emerging. He took a last breath and dived in with a hope of seeing his mermaid again.

* * *

He regained consciousness in her arms. They were on sandy shore where the air was cold and the sand dark, delivering him a promise that he wasn't anywhere near Persia. The ship's map had located them near Greece when he had rigged the engines.

He saw her tail clearly in the water's edge flapping like a fish out of water. Because she was, at least half of her. He struggled to lift his hand to touch the dark turquoise scales and smiled at the way his touch made her shiver pleasantly. She didn't seem unnerved by his touch like normal people was.

But her smile was sad and he understood why. Her scales were drying; he had felt it. She leaned down to kiss him again and it felt like a kiss goodbye. Tears fell from their eyes and mingled on his thin chest.

"I will find you," He willed her to understand as she let go of him and crawled into the ocean. "I will!" He yelled desperately as her golden locks disappeared into the waves, leaving his mask floating towards the shore.

If he had the strength, he would've followed her.


	2. The Quest

He had, in fact, landed on the shores of Greece. After he'd coughed up more water and accepted that his mermaid wouldn't be back, he'd counted it lucky that she'd left his mask. He'd donned it and tracked to the closest farmhouse where he'd stolen some proper clothes, enough food to regain his strength and a little money to get started. Then he'd continued inland until he reached Athens. From there he had sent word to Paris where his funds had been moved to. He needed them here instead.

He was aware that the transfer of his funds would be traceable for the man who had helped him set it up in Paris in the first place; it would be a matter of time before the Daroga would know that Erik hadn't perished when the ship sank. He only hoped the police chief would be too busy in Persia to go search for the assassin he'd helped flee.

It wasn't like Erik was planning to continue what had happened in the rosy hours of Mazenderan. He had found a true purpose in life now.

It was only a week after he'd last seen the mermaid when he bought an abandoned farm house near the place his mermaid had brought him to shore. The house itself was in dire need of restoration, but the stable's structure was sound and he only needed to repair the roof and remove the stalls.

He spent his days working, driven by the thought of her. In the evenings he would go down to the shore and sing in hope that she would come back to him, but she didn't. All he could do was hope that he could still find her where he'd first heard her.

Digging the hole in the stable proved to be the most difficult task and he ended up employing a local boy, Romei, to save time. Together they managed to dig a hole that was 100 meters long, 30 meters wide and 5 meters deep. It had to do because he didn't have the room to make it bigger and making it deeper was close to impossible after they encountered clay at the bottom.

Romei was clearly curious about the hole's purpose, but never asked directly and dutifully left when they had finished digging.

Erik covered the bottom of the hole with concrete, as well as the walls. Then he called for Romei again to help him heave sand from the shore to the stable. Romei also aided him in buying a small sailboat for a reasonable price. The locals were understandably wary of the masked stranger who was working on something in the old farm house, but to Romei's credit the boy never told a soul about their work.

Pumping water from the sea to the stable was amazingly the easiest task of all. During the lonely evenings by the shore, he had plenty of time to plan the development of a pumping system that would not only fill the hole with water directly from the sea, but would also allow him to replace the water regularly. Procuring the pipes for it was easy with the help of Romei and soon Erik had pumped enough water to fill the pool.

Lastly, he fished for various kinds of seaweed, clams and small fish. He didn't know what the mermaid ate, but at least he could come up with a few possibilities.

He hadn't succeeded in finding any literature that could be deemed truthful in regards to mermaids. He's been forced to learn Greek when settling down in the country and at the same time he'd learned their alphabet, so he could study local literature on the matter. But none of it gave him details on how they lived or what they ate.

He did, however, learn much about sirens which were well known in ancient Greece; some locals still believed in them. They would lure sailors into shallow water with their song and watch as the ships sunk. Erik began to wonder if the mermaid truly had been a siren. After all, she had enchanted him with her song and caused him to sabotage the ship's engine. It was also because of her that he'd been inclined to risk his life (as well as everyone else's on board) and had blown up the ship. While it had been his own decisions, they had been taken because of her.

But he could not believe that a creature so beautiful and so sad as her could be maleficent. He felt a connection with her, a loneliness so profound, that he was sure she was innocent in all of it. It was he who had the darkness in him, not her.

He often had moments where he was certain it had all been a cruel dream, mostly because she'd seen his face and smiled as though it hadn't mattered. Even if she was of a different species, mermaids' upper bodies - including their faces - clearly resembled humans whereas his absolutely did not. It couldn't have been real; it was his mind's cruel way of torturing him. And yet, each night he heard her voice and felt her touches as clear as the nights he'd seen her. These nights were the only reason he kept going.

* * *

One day, approximately three months after she'd saved him from drowning, it was at last time to sail out to the coordinates where he'd met her for the first time; where he would call out for her with his song until he found her.

Despite his wish to do it alone and not let anyone else see her, he had to admit that it would be beneficial to have another person on board. Therefore, he asked Romei to join him and the boy was more than willing. Erik suspected he was bored in the little town where he'd grown up. The boy wished for adventure and though he didn't understand what Erik was doing, he didn't dare to ask questions; this made him perfect for the mission.

They set off at dawn, a steady breeze carrying the small sailboat the direction they needed to go and in only 16 hours they reached the place where he'd first heard her. It was almost midnight and Romei had retired to his hammock a few hours before. Erik was satisfied with this as it might ensure that the boy wouldn't catch a glimpse of the mermaid. Furthermore, it would allow Erik to sleep during the day while Romei kept eye out for any dangers; these waters didn't usually carry pirate vessels, but one could never be too sure.

With as much assurance as possible that they had reached the right place according to his calculations, he anchored the boat and began to sing. It didn't matter what he sang, just the feelings he portrayed; he sang of the loneliness she'd expressed - that he knew so well - of the joy of meeting a kindred spirit and of the longing to see her once more.

His song continued into the break of dawn. He'd promised himself not to be disappointed if she didn't show up the first week, but it was impossible to avoid; somehow, he'd imagined that she would come to him the very first night. Had she not longed for him as he had for her? Was she just a siren, attempting to lure anyone into the depths?

No, she had saved him from that fate. He had to trust his instincts; they had always kept him alive at least.

Romei was quick to access Erik's mood in the morning and only nodded with apprehension and respect as Erik fled down to his cabin. The large wooden bathtub he'd built for her stood across from his bed and seemed to mock him as he attempted to rest his eyes. He would find her and bring her home!

The next five nights were spent in a similar fashion: Erik would sing for her until the sun rose, sometimes almost screaming in his desperation to have her hear him. He didn't sleep much during the day, too worked up by the feeling of being so close to her, yet far away. His vision blurred at times and though he tried to convince himself that it was caused by the lack of sleep, he knew deep down it was tears that threatened to spill.

Nearly a week passed and the way Romei eyed him every time they crossed each other's paths, it was obvious that the boy had figured he'd gone insane. However, he couldn't sail the boat home without Erik; he had to trust the maddened masked man.

Erik was also beginning to wonder if he'd finally lost his mind. Perhaps it had all been a dream; he was probably still on the cargo ship from Persia, or worse, still in Persia in a haze of opium and imagining all sorts of things. These thoughts haunted him every time another dawn broke without hearing her sing once more.

On the seventh night the dream returned: the sun had barely set and he hadn't even started to sing when he heard it: the captivating voice so ethereal that it defied all natural laws. He searched the sea for any sign of her, but he couldn't see her, and though he heard her clearly, he wasn't convinced yet that it wasn't a hallucination. But he answered her song with his own; she responded, her melody growing bolder and more joyful.

Then he saw her: she was in the water at starboard, the last of the sun's dying rays casting a light on her pale face and golden hair. Without hesitation, he grabbed a loose rope, tied it to the mast and jumped into the sea. As he dove beneath the waves, into the dark waters, he saw her follow him; her smiling eyes greeted him underwater and he was reluctant to swim upwards to reach the surface in fear that she would disappear. But even he needed to breathe.

He gasped for air as he resurfaced, but he was prepared to dive down again immediately after her. It proved to be unnecessary because she'd followed him; suddenly, she was there beside him, looking more beautiful than he could ever have imagined her.

It wasn't until he touched her wet, yet impossibly soft curls that he finally believed that he had found her. The smile in her eyes spread to the rest of her features and he felt his heart swell. This was love, unlike any other, and he would make sure he'd never lose it.

With that in mind he circled her with the rope, swiftly binding her arms tightly to her body. She screamed, naturally, but he hushed her and comforted her, more with the tone in his voice than his actual words which she didn't understand. Still, she struggled, but he was stronger and faster. In mere moments he had her properly secured. He climbed up the side of the boat, then pulled her up from the sea by the rope.

The fear in her eyes were plain, though her screams died out. He kissed her forehead as he lifted her bridal style down to his cabin where the bathtub waited for her; he'd made sure to fill it with fresh water every day. Gently, he sank her into the water, satisfied that the tub fit her perfectly; her tail had room to move around and she could stay under water at all times if she wished or needed to.

She began to scream again and to avoid that Romei would come running, Erik had to gag her. He hated to see the panic and horror in her eyes as he stuffed a piece of cloth into her mouth, but it couldn't be helped.

They belonged together.


	3. Christina

Erik set the course for the shore as soon as the mermaid was secured and woke up Romei; the boy had to steer the boat while Erik stayed with the mermaid to make her feel safe if such a thing was possible. All he told Romei was that their mission was complete and no questions were asked; that boy truly was a good worker.

The girl was struggling against her restraints when Erik entered the cabin again, but ceased the moment he entered and eyed him with an eerie expression, making him feel as though he was on trial.

He came closer to her with raised hands in an attempt to show that he had no ill intentions and she didn't pull away in disgust when he reached her; always a good sign when he was dealing with others. Kneeling down next to the tub, he gently removed the gag, relieved when she didn't begin to scream, though she still observed him in a way that made him uncomfortable.

Trying to remind her of their connection, he began to sing to her an old lullabye from Persia he'd sung for Reza. The language didn't matter, she appeared to not speak any human language, but the emotions in his song mattered.

Finally, she began to relax and started to sing along, nearly imitating the lyrics flawlessly. Her talent was pure, unspoiled, and he wanted nothing to ruin this perfect creature; he was saving her from the cold, unfeeling world where none of them belonged.

They sang until the first rays of sunlight appeared on the horizon when the girl began to yawn. It seemed she was a nocturnal creature much like him, though he felt too exhilarated to rest. But he moved his cot closer to the tub, indicating his intention to sleep there and looked at her questioningly. She returned his look with an unreadable one, assessing him in silence.

He realized that while she knew his feelings from his songs, she knew nothing else about him and if he wished to have her in his life, they had to find a way to communicate. It should be possible for him to learn her language at least, considering how fast he'd learned Italian, Russian, Farsi and Greek.

Doing as he'd seen many do before when introducing themselves, he put a hand on his chest. "Erik," he said as he looked into her eyes, "E-rik." She repeated his name quietly, holding his gaze as she imitated the pronunciation to perfection. He nodded and pointed at himself to confirm.

However, when he pointed at her, she didn't respond; the look in her eyes made him certain that she understood what he was asking, but her damned eyes stared passively at him while her mouth stayed close.

He repeated the action of telling her his name and she said it as flawlessly as the first time, but nothing when he pointed to her. The third time she said his name the moment he pointed at himself, a little smile on her lips; she was playing with him. Usually when people did that, he hated it, but he found it almost… charming with her.

"Alright," he chuckled, aware of how unnatural it sounded even to him, "I guess I have to name you for now. How about Christina Nilsson, like the upcoming Swedish soprano, hmm? Though I doubt her voice can match yours in any way." Once again, she didn't answer, but this time he couldn't blame her as she didn't understand what he was talking about.

"Erik," he said one last time as he pointed to himself, then pointing to her, "Christina." She hummed in response and it was as good an answer as he could expect, he surmised. Laying down on the cot, he closed his eyes to pretend to sleep. He heard her splash a little and hum quietly before she appeared to settle. When he opened his eyes, she was sleeping in a somewhat comfortable position in the tub.

He knew well enough that taking her hadn't been a wise decision, but he couldn't bear to live without her. That voice provided him with a sense of belonging he'd never had before. How could he let that go?

His hand reached out to touch her soft, slightly moist cheek, caressing it tenderly. He was going to give her a life as good as what she had in the ocean. Her songs had spoken to his lonely heart; she was lonely too. Whatever she had before, he could give her much more.

At least that's what he told himself before he unexpectedly fell asleep, more tired than he'd admitted to himself, or perhaps just at peace at last.

He was awakened by splashing and panicked cries, along with a persistent knocking on the door to his cabin and Romei's worried questions. The mermaid - Christina, he reminded himself - was fighting against her restraints, probably frightened after waking up in such a strange place; he should've been awake to keep her calm.

Romei's frantic knocking was an annoyance and a reminder to Erik; if he realized that Erik technically was holding a woman captive on the boat, he might alert others when they reached the shore.

Erik tenderly kissed Christina's forehead which made her calm a bit before he gagged her again. Then, careful not to let Romei see the mermaid in the tub, he opened the door and stepped out to face the boy who was shocked by the sounds coming from the cabin.

"Is that a woman in there? What are you doing to her? Were you abusing her?" The boy was asking more questions now than he had in all the time they'd known each other, ruining the trait Erik had appreciated the most in him: the ability to stay quiet.

They were not far from the shore now; he could see the beach where the mermaid had left him after saving him. He must've slept for 11 hours - a new record for him, at least off opioids.

The use for Romei on this boat was to a certain extent over and while Erik hadn't planned to take any measures to keep the boy silent, he might not have a choice. It would not only be in his own best interest, but Christina's too. A real mermaid, if discovered, would be taken from him and sold to a freak show - a fate that no one should have to endure.

The need to protect Christina came first. With that in mind, he gripped Romei's collar and threw him overboard before he could second-guess himself. It was an easy death and the boy might even be a decent enough swimmer to survive; either way Erik felt certain that none of it would be traced back to him. No one knew Romei had gone with him.

He ignored the desperate cries for help and focused on getting the boat to shore instead of going back to Christina. There wasn't any way of calming her that wouldn't take too much time; getting her to his home - their home - would provide her with the stability needed to get her used to her new life with him.

It was a trying feat to get the boat to shore without capsizing, but luckily he had quickly become a skilled sailor. However, the next step turned out to be a problem he hadn't anticipated: he hadn't thought of a way to get Christina safely to his house. He didn't know how long she could survive without water and he couldn't think of a way to transport her in water.

In the end he ended up running the whole way with his panicked mermaid in his arms. She only struggled against him while they were near the sea, but as they moved inland, she trembled in fear instead. Clearly, she had not contemplated a life on land before.

As they neared his house and the stable he'd made into a sanctuary for her, she grew weaker; her skin dried, turning grey in the process and her blue-green scales of her tail lost their shine. Even her sky blue eyes dimmed.

He kicked the door to the stable open as soon as they reached it and without hesitation jumped into the water with her because he in a moment of folly feared that she would drown without the strength to swim.

While treading water with her nearly limp in his arms, he untied her wrists and removed the gag. For a minute he thought it was too late, that she would wilt away in his arms, but slowly she seemed to come out of her stupor. She looked around them with wide eyes, frightened and uncertain, and left his arms abruptly to swim away swiftly.

It was only natural, he told himself, that she was disturbed by her new surroundings, though he felt a little hurt. He stayed in the pool for a while, hoping for her return, but she probably went to explore her new home; an hour passed without any sign of her before he crawled out of the pool.

She couldn't leave, something he kept repeating in his head as he dried himself and changed into a dry set of clothes. It wasn't long after when he saw her golden hair and the glistening tail just beneath the surface, swimming to each edge of the pool - looking for a way out.

When she finally resurfaced, it was with a look of apprehensiveness. There was no joy or love in her eyes as he'd hoped to see, but that would change when she understood. He sat down by the edge, smiling through the mask when she came to him.

He felt a surge of hope when she reached for him, but instead of taking his outstretched hands, she gripped the leather of his mask and pulled it away before he could stop her. If she hadn't been in the water and a faster swimmer than him, he was sure he would've strangled her in that moment, but his anger calmed when he saw the smile in her eyes as she looked at him.

He remembered the acceptance he'd seen in her when she'd first unmasked him. Could it be that she preferred his misshapen face?

She let the leather scrap flow away and grabbed his hands to lift them to her mouth, kissing them. He followed her lead in dumbstruck silence as she pulled him into the water, wrapping her arms around him and dragging him downwards.

When they were completely submerged, she leaned to him and kissed him like she'd done the first time they'd sung together. He responded eagerly, his hands straying from their hold on her waist to caress her naked back and the supple mounds of her breasts, enjoying the feel of having a woman wanting him to touch her.

His lungs burned with the need for air, but he fought to stay with her as long as possible, not daring to break their kiss. His body protested and without his mind's consent began to fight its way to the surface.

It was a relief to see her emerge with him above water, but he hated the expression he saw in her: disappointment. She must've thought he could live with her down there, something that he wished for too. He shook his head in despair and her breath hitched, a sob escaping her, before she disappeared into the water again.

His body was weak after the lack of air and he pulled himself back up on land. From the deep he could hear a gloomy song without words, mirroring his own feelings, and when he'd gained enough strength he sang with her about their impossible love.

They may live in two different worlds, but they shared a soul. She had to learn that living here ensured that they would never be apart again, even if he couldn't join her under water.


	4. Siren

He didn't see her much the next few days. The seawater kept her well hidden down near the bottom, only allowing him to catch a glimmer of her hair or her tail and letting him hear her mournful songs through the water. Somehow her voice traveled impeccably through the water as though the barrier wasn't there; he doubted his voice did the same.

The possibility of seeking her out went through his head many times, especially when he had to jump into the pool to retrieve his mask, but he chose to give her some time to come to terms with her new reality. Meanwhile, he made sure that her water stayed fresh and that there were plenty of things to eat - whatever she ate.

He slept even less than usually, often only falling asleep for minutes at a time by the edge of the pool. He thought about bringing a mattress in there, but that meant he would have to leave her; it wasn't an option right now.

Did she not feel the same connection as him, the constant need to have him with her?

On the fourth day he woke up, limbs and back aching after having slept again on the hard concrete surrounding the pool, and jumped to defend himself when he noticed blue eyes gazing at him just above the water's surface.

He took a moment to calm down, then tentatively extended a hand to her and she floated to him, timidly putting her small hand in his. "It's good to see you," he attempted a smile. She tilted her head, an indecipherable expression on her beautiful face. He held back a sigh of frustration.

Her behavior was impossible to decipher and he couldn't very well learn her language when she didn't speak or even reacted to his words. There was only so much they could communicate through song without words.

Her free hand shot out of the water, going after the mask, and he reacted by pure instinct; he grabbed her wrist, twisting it backwards until a sickly crack sounded as bone broke. Christina screamed in pain, but didn't struggle in his hold.

"Oh god," he breathed as he understood what he'd done to her. "I'm sorry, so sorry, my love!" Her upper body seemed to go limp and for a second he wondered if she was about to faint, so he lifted her out of the water, except for her tail that stayed and flapped aimlessly in the water.

She looked up at him weakly, her eyes brimming with tears of confusion and pain - and fear. Her whole body seemed to turn less vibrant, as though the life in her was slowly draining out of her like when he'd taken her out of the sea.

He jumped into the pool with her in hope that her colors would return, but without luck; she just lay limp in his arms. Remembering what she'd intended before he'd hurt her, he pulled his mask away as she had wanted to do.

Such a simple action of an innocent creature, the only one who'd seen beyond his face. He truly was a monster for hurting her.

There was no resistance in her as he gathered her in an embrace, exhausting himself by holding them both up as he treaded water, and began to sing to her. This time he couldn't come up with a song of his own to describe his remorse and instead turned to Mozart to beg her for forgiveness.

The Count's words from The Marriage of Figaro were not enough to express his regret, but he hoped to convey them in his song: "_Contesssa, perdono... Perdono, perdono!_" Christina didn't respond - she didn't understand - but her unharmed hand lifted to cup his cheek and a solemn smile appeared on her lips.

How long they stayed like that in the water, he didn't know, only that his legs felt numb when her tail began to move for her again and he crawled out of the water. He bound her wrist with strips of linen and a stick to make sure that she couldn't bend and damage it further and she responded with somber gratefulness.

He spent the rest of the night serenading her in hopes of forgiveness and at times she joined him in song, but every note was lined with despair. After the sun rose outside their little sanctuary she disappeared into the deep once more.

He saw her more often after that, swimming just beneath the surface. If he called the name he'd given her, she would come to him. He kept the mask off which seemed to please her and pretended not to see the way her blue eyes were turning grey or the dull color of her tail.

Her song was still beautiful and he recognized love in the melodies she created, but couldn't deny that they also contained a great deal of pain and longing. He knew inside that she must yearn for the sea, but he couldn't bear to let her go. They were better together than apart, he was sure of that much.

At times she would drag him into the water and hold him - kiss him even - and he was sure that she found her soul as complete as his own felt in these moments. They needed each other; the rest wasn't important.

In the hours she was gone, presumably sleeping, he would try and devise a way for him to live in the water with her. He'd somewhat given up on having her on land - she had given up enough already - but there had to be a way for him to at least partly live underwater.

He already knew how to stay underwater for longer periods of time using a straw, but he still had to stay near the surface. The use of diving bells were common in Europe and the Middle East, but such a contraption would not allow him to be close to Christina.

However, it was possible to make a miniature diving bell to fit on his head that made him able to touch her, just not kiss her; it was a small price to pay to be with his beloved. It would also keep his face slightly hidden from her prying eyes that scrutinized him, seeing beyond the deformity and instead caught sight of his distorted soul.

The only issue was how to supply him with oxygen. He had to be connected to the surface and provided with compressed air regularly pumped directly into his helmet. It didn't take him long to make a sketch of his invention and he set to work immediately hereafter.

In the following days he found himself forced to leave the stable and Christina behind to go to the nearest town where he could buy the right equipment and materials. He took little notice of the shrine for Romei begging for his safe return, confirming that they didn't suspect him to be involved.

He threw himself into the work of making the diving helmet and the pump to provide him with fresh air underwater. Welding the helmet proved to take the longest and he was forced to do it outside of the stable. He sought to weld while Christina slept, but he often heard her calling out to him.

He did visit her of course and attempted to explain his plan to her, but she just looked at him with fading eyes and an expression he didn't want to understand. He ignored the way her voice cracked the few times they sang together, his own voice carrying the songs for both of them.

Soon enough, they would be together.

When he finally deemed the contraption finished, he took it into the stable to set it up. He called out for Christina to show her what he'd been working on, but she didn't come to the surface; since it was in the late afternoon, he surmised that she was still asleep.

The diving helmet was heavier than he'd hoped for, but he hadn't been able to procure lighter metals in such a short notice; maybe when his connection with Christina was stronger, he would make a better version, but until then this would suffice.

He wore only a loose shirt and Persian trousers as he put on the helmet and strapped it to the layers of leather he secured around his neck, effectively making it airtight and keeping the water out. The pipe between his helmet and the air pump doubled as a cord to help him resurface when needed.

The metal of the helmet would keep him from floating to the surface and he hoped it wouldn't feel as heavy on his head underwater. He wouldn't be able to swim with it, but it was a minor inconvenience to be in the deep water with his love.

The sun had already set when he'd finished his preparations and to his disappointment Christina still hadn't come up to greet him. It was going to be dark at the bottom where she usually seemed to sleep, so he lit lanterns all around the pool to allow as much light to reach down there as possible.

When he finally slid into the water, he sank to the bottom within a few seconds. The ambient pressure was more forceful than he'd calculated and a quick assessment of its effects on his body made him conclude that he only had 30 minutes at a time to stay down there. He also had to submerge and resurface slowly unless he wanted to experience decompression sickness.

It was a rough setback, but one he could work on. For now he focused on finding Christina to show her that he could be a part of her world.

He tracked through the sandy bottom of the pool, only seeing dark shapes of rocks and fish passing by. Usually, he could see excellently in the dark, but the glass of the helmet and the moving water made it much more difficult than expected.

It took him longer than he'd hoped to find the place she slept. The measly 30 meters of the pool seemed longer when tracking slowly through the sand at the bottom. He kept track of the time in the back of his head and nearly 20 minutes had passed when at least he came upon a gathering of larger rocks, unnaturally covered in seaweeds.

He should've acted when she hadn't responded to his calling. He shouldn't have ignored it the first time he heard her voice crack. He should've stopped himself the moment she'd seemed to fade away when he brought her inland.

But he didn't truly understand the consequences until he touched her skin and felt the death in her, the life and music of her soul extinguished.

He wondered morbidly why she hadn't floated to the surface like fish did when they died until he noticed that her uninjured hand was tied with long strips of seaweed stretching up her arm and across her shoulder. It was almost ritualistic and must've been painful with her broken wrist. Had she known that she was dying?

Her usual curly hair that always had flowed through the water was flat and almost black against the green seaweed, her eyes open and staring into the distance. But it was her tail that broke him: once so beautiful with scales that shined in even the darkest night had taken a sickly yellow color, slowly rotting before his very eyes.

Her appearance reminded him more of his face than he liked and a terrible reality settled in his mind: she'd died because he had kissed her. He had killed her because he was Death.

He should've set her free - he should never have caught her. Listening to his song had been her demise.

He laughed mirthlessly as he remembered how he'd wondered if she was a siren. She had not been a siren; her love had been pure. She would never have held him captive until the life drained out of him.

It was him all along. _He_ was the siren, luring the innocent mermaid with his voice and leading her to her doom.

He took off his helmet, letting it fall into the sand by his feet, and crawled down on the seaweed bed to lie next to her. The water pressure was getting to his head and it didn't take long before he felt his lungs cry for oxygen, but he ignored his body's needs, hoping to die there beside her.

He clinged to her until he passed out from the lack of air. To his dismay he woke again, floating at the surface of the pool; his body always seemed to keep him alive.

There was nothing here for him anymore. He would live out his days in hiding to avoid tainting anyone else and ruin more lives. All he wanted was a little music to keep him company.

With that in mind he traveled to Paris and took a job as an architect, working under Charles Garnier on the grand Opera Populaire, giving him the opportunity to build a house deep beneath the opera by the underwater lake.

Here he vowed to live out his days, devoting the remains of his life to Don Juan Triumphant - his own masterpiece - and he swore that he would never lure another soul to its death.

He was unaware that he would meet the mermaid again in another form and be given a second chance.

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**Thank you all for reading and reviewing! It means a lot to me!**


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